


A Man

by jenaicompris



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Watching You
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:24:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3883981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenaicompris/pseuds/jenaicompris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glimpse into the mind of 'Jaqen' when Arya arrives at the House of Black and White. Gifted to the wonderful Winterlyn_Dow for the beautiful piece that is The Assassin's Apprentice. (Otherwise completely unrelated to the piece.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Winterlyn_Dow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterlyn_Dow/gifts).



A man felt guilty for how much her presence affected him. A man watched a lovely girl when she didn’t know that she knew the eyes that raked across her skin. He watched her as she left the doors, settled on the stairs in front of him. Close enough for him to see the sweat beading on the back of her exposed neck. Her delicate shoulders rounded down in defeat but they did not shake with tears. A man did not expect them to.

A man watched her until she left the steps. He kept track of where she went and changed his face again so that she would not recognize him as he tracked her.

A man did not watch her to protect her. A man did not watch her to study her for the Kindly Man, despite the mantra in his head that stated otherwise.

A man watched her purely because he desired to do so. A man needed to see the way she moved, but not so that he could report back to the guild – although he would. She had been lumbering before in comparison; she moved like water even though she seemed to question every gesture she made, even the placement of her diminutive feet.

A man wanted to align his much longer limbs with hers and show her to accept her movements.

That was only partially a truth, a man smiled to himself. The full reason he wanted to press himself into her back and feel her body move with his was much less noble than all of that.

A Faceless Man he might have been, but still a man to be sure. And she was a girl, a lovely girl – clever enough to trick him all of those months before. She had grown taller, though not by much. Her muscles taut, her face leaner. Her eyes sharper.

When you have lived as long as a man has, everyone is young. Ages and time are fluid to a man. A girl she was, a child she was not.

He needed her in a way that he rarely needed anyone. He would not push her, not insomuch as he was certainly capable of doing. A man would lead a girl to water but would not force her to bend down and drink it.

The thought caused a smirk on his new face. His skin tingled as he slid behind another man to disappear as a lovely girl turned her head.


End file.
